


Lessons with the Maestro

by starfishies



Category: Amad, Die Zauberflöte | The Magic Flute - Mozart/Schikaneder, Mozart l'Opéra Rock - Mozart/Baguian & Guirao, The Magic Flute - All Media Types, w a mozart, w.a.mozart, wolfgang - Fandom
Genre: Amadeus Movie, F/M, Magic Flute, Opera Singers, W.A. Mozart, Wolfgang Mozart, amadeus - Freeform, mozart - Freeform, opera - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 22:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9682829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishies/pseuds/starfishies
Summary: Anna Gottlieb is the talented 17 year old who has been chosen to premier Mozart's latest opera, The Magic Flute. Drawn to the magic of the libretto, but also to it's charismatic creator - it becomes clear that Anna is interested in more than just singing.





	

“Brava Madame!” He gushed in his exuberant Italian, taking my hand and pressing it to his lips. The backstage area was a blur of wigs and costumes as singers revelled in the accolade of a successful opening night. It was a heady feeling, the rush of the stage, the adoration of my darling composer and the satisfactory tightness in my throat having sung my most beautiful of roles to the charming Tamino before a spell-bound audience. I was proud of my performance, having been brought back to encore my aria no less than three times. 

“Grazie” I curtsied in my muslin costume, all too aware of its revealing opaqueness. If he noticed, he did not give any sign, he was already reliving the glory of the final act “Anna when the chorus ended and the audience went mad,” his eyes sparkled like a child, “…..They loved it!” He practically squealed with glee. Bodies jostled between us, “Pardon Maestro!” the prop master squeezed past holding a large painted scene above his head and several of the chorus members bumped into us as they passed by, Mozart barely registered the chaos of it all. “Don’t you think?” He took my hands gently, seeking desperately for me to congratulate him, “Yes of course, a rousing success Maestro.” He stood taking in his surroundings, his smile fading slightly. The crowd was beginning to thin out as singers and musicians began to make their way out into the streets, some to pubs and inns – others back home to their wives and families.

Wolfgang’s family was not at the premier, his wife Constanze had retreated to the spa waters at Baden with her youngest son at her side. She had become bed ridden with the most recent pregnancy and with all of the work for his latest opera, Wolfgang was sure to send her where she would be looked after properly. The proceeds from tonight’s show would no doubt go towards paying for the extravagance of her stay. During the weeks of rehearsals leading up the premier, he often went away to visit his family, sometimes for several days at a time - but on nights where he stayed in town, he’d have his own gatherings. Actors, singers, music makers and aristocrats of varying degrees were happy to squeeze in to his small flat, staying until the early hours of the next morning. There was no shortage of drink, and surely there was music and games. “It keeps my mind off of things” he once told me in a vocal lesson when I asked of his parties, his small hands perched on the keys of the piano, “Have you no vices dear Anna?” I blushed thinking of a few occasions, “You are most welcome to attend my next evening, however I’ll have to chaperone you.” He looked at me quite seriously for a moment, “Not all gentlemen are so deserving of their titles and a darling girl is just what many of them are after.” I smiled at the comment, “I think I can look after myself Herr Mozart, but I thank you for your protection.” Sighing he stood, grasping my arms firmly which shocked me. Though I am certain he was aware of my teenaged infatuation, he had never done more than kissed my hand, a fatherly embrace or a farewell kiss. He had always been most gentle and mannerly – most certainly not putting his hands on me! He continued his assault as he pressed me between himself and side of the piano. Uncomfortable with this abruptness I began to resist which only had him tighten his grip. Feeling the rough pinch of his hands on my sides I yelped, he released me immediately and smiled sweetly, “You see? And I am not a brutish man. Imagine what a man can have if he desires it.” With that, I understood. He never mentioned that conversation again, and I – as invited – began to attend his soirees, but never strayed from his watchful gaze. 

“Come” He tugged my wrist, leading me through the narrow corridors back to my dressing area. Feeling the heat in my cheeks knowing my things were scattered about, I quickly shut the door behind us – staying pressed against it, my eyes were fixed on the floor. Mozart however was far more at ease, flinging himself across the divan, kicking his shoes on to the floor without a care. Seeing his state of relaxation I quickly began to grab bits of discarded hose and I tried to stuff them into the makeup table, out of sight. Side stepping in front of my stays, hoping he had not noticed my under garments strewn about, I pushed them back behind the cabinet discreetly; I could fish them out later after he had gone. 

“Anna please, I have a wife and a sister – truly do you believe I am an innocent man? I’ve seen ladies hose!” He tossed his powdered wig, running his hands through his damp hair. “Had I known to expect you after the show I would’ve taken more care to put my things away.” I said quietly, reminded again of his wife – with child, in Baden sick and feverish. I felt a sickness in my gut, guilt rising seeing a married man, a father, stretched out in my quarters without a care in the world. I knew I should confess my thoughts and pray for forgiveness but he always drew me back. I’m certain he could read my thoughts and he played them to his advantage. “Anna could you mend this?” he’d ask, “I wouldn’t ask such a thing but with Stanzi at the bathes and the maid with her…I just don’t know who to turn to!” His gentle features, his light tenor practically singing my name – I could never resist him. I adored him, and I’m sure he knew even before myself!

“Sweet girl” he sat up, gesturing for me to sit by his side. I sat hesitantly knowing he would seize the opportunity to close any distance between us. I was always helpless in his presence. “Darling Anna” he crept closer and I had little resolve to deny him, “you were breath taking this evening. Truly.” He smiled, stroking my hands. “You are a star pupil and I know that you will sing many great roles – I will write my next one for you!” My chest beat wildly, Herr Mozart was not quick to compliment a voice unless he truly enjoyed the performance. “You flatter me Maestro.” I said softly, “Anna,” he cupped my face, “I don’t waste my time, or my words. And most certainly not, my music. I would never allow a second rate soprano to premier my work!” A moment of profound silence passed between us before he crushed his lips against mine holding me in place as I froze, hair standing on end. My stomach began to knot as he pushed me on to my back, releasing me to allow his hands to travel to my sides, expertly running up and down in appreciation of my thin costume. My thoughts raced, what of his wife? What will people think? Am I to be his mistress? Does he love me? He seemed to read my thoughts as he stopped, hovering above my freshly exposed chest, “Please tell me you have wanted me since we began our lessons?” he kissed my bare breast, “I am a most patient man but I cannot hold back any longer.” He came back to my lips, seizing them once more. I arched up against him and that was all the clarity he needed, he made quick work of his breeches and gently peeled back the layers of my many skirts. He knelt between my thighs to shed his heavy embroidered coat, tossing it carelessly on to the floor in a heap. 

I blushed catching a glimpse of him from this new angle, trousers unfastened; his most intimate places exposed so brazenly, and I quickly turned my head to the side. “Anna,” he chuckled, nibbling along my neck to the base behind my ear, “don’t worry, I’m always gentle with the good girls.” He slid his hands down to my hips, dragging me closer to him, leaning down on top of me. There was a sweet smell of his lavender hair powder and our sweat as I felt him push into my resistance. I choked as I felt my body accept him, he held my wrists securely as I am sure he expected a half hearted struggle. I lay stunned as he worked above me, at first slowly then with time, building. He withdrew himself before going completely mad and lay panting on top of me, the weight of his body crushing down on me. “I can’t” he panted, “If you were with child, it would ruin you.” He pressed his forehead to mine. I felt something damp twitch against my belly. I lay silent, not knowing what to say. He looked at me apologetically, “Have I hurt you?” he asked worriedly, I shook my head, “No” He exhaled with a sense of exhaustion, “Anna I must ask, for one final solo act” he grinned glancing downwards at his throbbing ache, he wrapped my hand around it firmly and guided me over it with fervour. After a time he began to shake, bucking into my palm with a whimper as if in pain. Finally he gave great cry and shot hot white into my hand. I jumped, completely startled by the event which caused him to erupt into a fit of laughter. I narrowed my eyes at him, “Are you mocking me Herr Mozart?” I said haughtily, pushing down my skirts and finding a discarded cloth to wipe my hand of the fantastic mess. 

“Darling girl!” he giggled, holding my face once more, kissing me between exasperated sentences, “You are most innocent!” he smiled again, “A delight, I’m glad I kept such a watchful eye on you all these months. Shielding you from the unwelcome advances of lecherous old men.” I smiled back sweetly, “May I remind good sir, that you more than 15 years my senior? Thus qualifying as a potentially lecherous old man.” He frowned and pinched my bottom smartly, “Ow!” I jumped, “I am a pedagogue Ms.Gottlieb, not a lecher. I don not prey on young women for sport. They come to me for instruction.”

I watched as he righted him jacket and slipped his shoes back on before stating coolly, “So when can I expect my next lesson?”


End file.
